On My Nose Has Worn A Rose.
Each petal too it's heart.
Looking for the sun, it sits alone.
Until it comes to near the moon again.
Night time tears have found it out.
Around it's stem it moves.
Would each bud have known it then.
About some other plan.
The nose is such a one way prick.
One heart, each petal has too bear.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem